Monday, April 03, 2006

Exhibitionism or Masochism?


I’ve never been a good drafter. Actually it’s an endless, painstaking effort to translate my thoughts into words. The problem is that I get paid to write. It pays my rent. (No, I’m not a writer, as you would have probably guessed from my drafting skills.) When my sister and I we were kids, our grandpa used to encourage us to keep a diary. Not to put our inner thoughts in a secret diary but only to keep up with our Japanese. I hated that experience. I didn’t have enough imagination. My diaries mostly started like this: “Today, I went to the department store with grandma.” And then followed a countless list of grocery stuff. How fascinating… My diaries were not descriptive. They were merely factual. Enumeration of endless facts, in bullet point format, like a statement you file at the police station. A traumatic moment of my childhood. It’s probably the reason why I started seeing a shrink. But I have stopped seeing my shrink the moment he asked me to write my thoughts and feelings in a diary. I wasn’t afraid that my intimacy be revealed to my shrink, I’ve just found it burdensome to draft supposedly decipherable sentences, black on white. You’d say, you are full of contradictions. Why on earth have you started a Blog then? That’s a very good question. Am I a masochist? No. I am an exhibitionist. And you, reader, entertain my exhibitionism.

When you are a teenager, it’s cool to keep a secret diary. Once you reach the age of reason, it’s no longer cool. It’s PATHETIC. Blogging is quite a different scenario. A Blogger, on the contrary, does not want to keep her Blog secret. Otherwise what’s the point of posting a Blog on a world-wide-web? A Blogger is an exhibitionist. A Blogger’s unspoken dream is to being exposed to an anonymous reader she doesn’t see, has never met and will never meet, like an exhibitionist naked in her apartment at night, curtains wide open, being scrutinized from afar through a peephole...

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